


Neal Meets Neal

by Creej



Series: White Collae RPF [1]
Category: White Collar, White Collar RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Matt spends a few days in a strange but very familiar place. Or, what happens when 'Neal Caffrey' meets Neal Caffrey.





	Neal Meets Neal

**Author's Note:**

> I know fics of this sort have been done before. Here's my particular take on this type of 'crossover'. Takes place sometime around mid-season four.

Matt fell into bed, exhausted from the day's shooting. And it was up early again in the morning. He rubbed his left ankle with his right foot - the prop anklet was beginning to chafe, although he had to admit the newer one was - marginally - better than the one they'd used in the first season.

Tomorrow's schedule ran through his head as he drifted on the edge of sleep - a rather intense scene first, - then, while he had the time, the consultant - a real life Neal Caffrey - would continue instructing him in the art of picking pockets and picking locks. He admitted he found it fun, picking the pockets of the cast and crew - especially Tim - and seeing how long it took them to notice. With a faint smile, he fell asleep.

 

He woke to a pounding on the door and sat up.

"Neal!"

Did he actually hear the name Neal??

He shook his head, freezing as he took in his surroundings. He recognized where he was - Neal's loft at June's. But there were no cameras, no mics, no crewpeople. - the set wasn't a set. It was then he became aware of a slight weight on his ankle and he hitched up the leg of his sleep pants, his eyes going wide when he saw the ugly black plastic of the anklet. He knew he'd returned it to props before he left the studio the day before and he knew, without checking, that the one he wore was real.

"Neal! Open up!"

Matt startled back to his surroundings and stood. "Coming!" Still trying to make sense of what appeared to have happened, he crossed the room to open the door, revealing Tim on the other side. No, he corrected himself, not Tim....*Peter*.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" Tim...Peter asked, brushing past him.

"Overslept," Matt said.

The other man looked closely at him, his annoyed expression softening into concern. "You feel okay?" he asked. "You look a little pale."

Matt seized on the excuse. "I feel a little off," he said. "Might be coming down with something."

"You feel up to coming into the office?"

Matt was torn. While he wanted to stay there and try to figure out what was going on, he was curious to see if the other cast members had counterparts. "Sure," he said, curiosity winning out. "Give me a few.

It took him a bit longer than usual to dress - he liked the suits but they just weren't him. He was a jeans and a T-shirt kind of guy - but he figured he could excuse it with his 'feeling under the weather'. He nearly forgot Neal's trademark hat but grabbed it as they left.

The ride to the Federal Building was quiet as Matt watched the scenery go by. He was familiar with New York, of course, having filmed there for weeks at a time but the knowledge that he was apparently confined to a two mile radius was a bit jarring. It also brought up the question - if he was *here*, where was the "real" Neal Caffrey? The one who'd suggested this arrangement that he - Matt - would have to honor?

"You sure you're okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Matt said. "I'll let you know if I need to go home."

He tried not to stare as they entered the building. After all, he'd supposedly been here almost every day and should be used to it. The ride to the twenty first floor was quiet. But one question - well, a *lot* of questions - kept running through his mind: where was Neal, the man he was portraying? How late in the series was he? At least the second season, he was sure, considering the anklet he wore. As he and the other man pushed through the doors, he looked up to the ASACs office. Sitting at the desk was James Rebhorn. Matt mentally corrected himself. Not James but Hughes. Reese Hughes.

"Take a seat. You're on desk duty today."

Matt did so without complaint, surreptitiously looking around as he settled at Neal's - his - desk. There was Jones and Diana, someone he thought was Blake and of course Hughes and Peter along with probies and interns - *not* extras. He wondered idly if he'd see June, Moz and maybe Alex while he was here.

Peter stopped by the desk and placed a stack of case files in front of him. "I know, not your favorite," he said. "But until you're feeling better, no field work."

"Ummm, thanks," Matt said, giving him a nod and tamping down on the panic he was beginning to feel. What did he know about mortgage fraud or embezzlement? All he knew was what the writers put in the script. He sighed and opened the first file. Maybe he could fake it well enough to fool them. He'd been playing Neal for about four years so he knew how the man worked, how he thought...didn't he?

Somehow, he made it through the day without raising suspicion that he wasn't who he was pretending to be and he really understood why Neal hated the mortgage fraud cases and paperwork. It bordered on mind-numbing. But he had managed to find an irregularity in the bank deposits in an embezzlement case - he was kinda proud of that.

When he got back to Neal's loft he barely kept himself from gaping when he saw Moz sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, reminding himself that it wasn't Willie.

"What's up...Moz?" he asked, shrugging out of the suit jacket and draping it over a chair, hoping the other man didn't notice the slight hesitation.

"Just thought you should know that Alex is in town," Moz said.

"What's she want?" Matt asked, pouring himself a glass. He sipped and grimaced a little, reminded that this world was real, not a set. The wine was actually wine, not grape juice. The last thing he needed was to get drunk.

"Haven't heard of anything big going on," Moz said. "Maybe she just wants to visit."

"Alex usually has a motive," Matt said. "She looking to move something?"

"Not that I know," Moz said.

He felt Moz regarding him as he moved around the loft then stepped onto the terrace. He knew this view. They'd gotten permission to film the pilot here and it still took his breath away. He wondered if Neal had gotten used to it. Sometimes it seemed he had.

"Trouble in paradise, mon frere?" Moz asked, standing beside him. Matt raised his brows in question. "The suits."

"No, no, everything's fine," he said. "Just...off today." He absently rubbed at the anklet with his foot.

"It still bothers you," Moz said, noticing.

"How long have I been wearing it?" Matt asked.

"Three years," Moz said. "I figured you'd be used to it."

"I am for the most part," Matt said. "But every once in a while..."

"Unfortunately, I'm no closer to hacking it than I was when they first put it on," Moz said.

"I know you'll keep trying," Matt said.

"Any idea when they'll let you off again?"

"No idea," Matt said. He turned to lean against the balustrade, trying to remain in the mindset of Neal Caffrey. It shouldn't be that hard; he was Neal ten, twelve hours a day, every day for weeks and they were well into the fourth season. Hell, they'd wrapped up filming in Puerto Rico more than a month ago.

"Neal?"

"Sorry," Matt said. "Kind of missing Cape Verde a little." It was a risk he knew but...

"Cape Verde? Or Maya?" Moz asked.

Matt smiled slightly. "Both," he said, glad that he now had a time frame but that brought up the possibility of having foreknowledge of what was in store for Peter and the team. He'd heard rumors of what was going to happen but that was all it was - rumors. Tim tended to know more than he did. He'd known about his duet with Diahann, the flashback episode, what the story arc with the music box was and his hope that Peter and Neal would somehow trade places had been borne out. He sighed, wishing Tim was there to talk to.

"I can see you wish to be alone," Moz said. "So, I'll bid you adieu."

"See you Moz," Matt said. "And thanks."

"Any time, mon frere."

Matt wasn't surprised when the man left with a bottle of wine in his hands. He knew Neal really didn't mind so why should he? He dropped into one of the chairs, wondering how long he would be stuck in what to him was a make believe world. He also couldn't help wondering where Neal was and if he was having the same problems. Probably not, he figured. Neal was a con man, a chameleon, able to adapt to almost any situation. As an actor, Matt had some of those qualities but he relied a lot on scriptwriters for what to do and say. He could improv - he and Tim were always riffing off each other - but he'd never tried to remain 'Neal' after the director called "cut". And until he could return to the set, he'd have to *be* Neal, twenty four seven.

He heaved a sigh. "I can do this," he told himself. "I *am* Neal Caffrey." He got up, going to the wine rack. Screw getting drunk, he could use a drink right now even though he really wasn't a wine person.

 

The next morning, he was almost afraid to open his eyes when the alarm went off - would he be in his apartment or still in Neal's loft? He tried not to be disappointed when he saw the terrace doors. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and got up to dress. If he was right, Peter would be there to have coffee with June while he waited for Neal to finish dressing. As if on cue, there was a tap on the door followed by June entering.

"Good morning, darling," June said, waving the maid in and giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, June," Matt said, returning the kiss.

"Will Peter be here this morning?"

"As far as I know."

"Three cups, Maria," June told the maid and received an acknowledging nod.

There was another, more perfunctory knock and the door opened to admit Peter.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll go get dressed," Matt said as Peter and June took seats at the table.

"Remember, you're Neal Caffrey," he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror after he dressed, then went out to join the others.

 

He managed to make it through another day as Neal - he still didn't like the paperwork - and made it up to the loft before letting the persona drop.

He stopped short, seeing someone on the terrace. Someone who looked very familiar. The figure looked up, tilting his head a little then broke into a grin. Matt wasn't sure if he should feel shocked, unnerved or relieved, because looking back at him was someone who could only be Neal Caffrey.

"You're taking this rather well," he said sitting across from him.

Neal shrugged. "I admit to being a little...unnerved," he said. "But what kind of con man would I be if I let it show?"

"So, any idea what the hell is going on?" Matt asked.

"Not a clue," Neal said. He studied his doppleganger a moment. "I have to admit, the resemblance is...uncanny," he said.

"Well, since we're supposed to be the same person..." Matt said.

"So, were you as shocked to wake up here as I was to wake up on a sound stage?" Neal asked.

"I was more confused than shocked," Matt said. "And I have to tell you, I'd *really* like to go home. I'd like to see Simon and the kids at some point."

"Simon?"

"My husband," Matt said then paused. "I guess you wouldn't know. I'm gay. Married with kids."

"Looks like you know more about me than I do you," Neal said, sitting back. "So, when did you start being me?"

"When you walked out of supermax to look for Kate," Matt said. He saw Neal's eyes darken a little. "Sorry, I know it still has to hurt. I still remember shooting that scene. Had a little trouble getting back to myself."

"Yeah, it still does a little," Neal said. "So you know about Hagan, Adler, Fowler, all of that?"

"Pretty much," Matt said.

Neal let out a breath. "So, anything new at the office?"

"I can see why you hate the mortgage fraud and embezzlement cases," Matt said. "Booooring. Peter has me on desk duty until you feel better."

"No one suspects?"

"Not that I can tell," Matt said. "I have to catch myself sometimes though. I keep thinking of everyone as the people *I* know and have to remind myself that they're not."

Neal nodded. "I've done that," he said. "But at least I can pass it off as being in character." He stopped to rub at his ankle.

"Don't tell me you miss it," Matt said.

Neal gazed at him. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But don't tell Peter though. He'd never let me live it down."

"But he's not holding it over your head as much," Matt said. "If your life is following what it is in the series then he really cares about you, considers you a friend and partner. And *my* Neal feels the same way." He shrugged. "Of course, it helps me that Tim and I are friends off the set." He sat forward, an outrageous idea forming. "You know, even though I have a consultant to teach me some of your tricks, I'd really like to learn from you."

"Neal Caffrey teaching 'Neal Caffrey'?" he asked with a grin. "Sounds fun." Matt answered the grin with one of his own. "We'll start after dinner, okay? I'm starved."

"I should tell you that Moz was over yesterday," Matt said. "He said Alex was in town."

"He say why?" Neal asked as he prepared dinner.

"Said he didn't know," Matt said. "And he took a bottle of wine when he left."

Neal shook his head, smiling a little. "He usually does," he said.

"Question," Matt said. "I know the FBI pays you only seven hundred a month, so how do you afford all the expensive wines?"

Neal glanced at him, a smile touching his mouth. "You've been me for four years," he said. "How do you think?"

Matt thought for a few minutes then it came to him. "You have things stashed around the city," he said. "And you have Moz sell them off when you need cash."

"Close," Neal said. "Adler wasn't the only one we tried to siphon cash from. Although Moz *has* liquidated some of my assets."

"But it's only from people who can stand to lose it, right?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," Neal said. "We've never gone for trying to put people on the streets."

 

After donning the bell jacket Moz had used to train Peter, Neal asked him to show him what he'd already learned. In one pocket, he put his wallet and in the other, his phone.

"Keeping it simple for you at first," Neal said. "Go for the phone."

Matt regarded him for a few minutes, then shrugged and walked toward him, bumping him as he went past. To his satisfaction, he pocketed the phone, sure Neal hadn't noticed it despite the bells jingling.

Neal patted himself down, raising his brows when he found one pocket empty. "Not bad at all," he said. "But remember, index and middle fingers work best, so the thumb..."

"Doesn't touch the mark," Matt finished with him.

"Exactly," Neal said. "Now, go for the wallet."

Matt did much better that time and he could tell Neal was impressed. "Who's training you?" he asked at one point.

"A real life you," Matt said. "Well, *my* real life. He actually was a con man, spent two years in prison. They hired him at the start of the second season. First season was all camera tricks."

"He's a good teacher," Neal said.

"Or I'm a good student," Matt said. "Want to keep going?"

Neal nodded and they practiced drops and lifts for the next few hours, Neal helping him refine his technique. He felt really proud of himself when he managed to lift a button out of the pocket and Neal was completely unaware of it.

"Make sure it wasn't a fluke," Neal said, replacing it. "Being an actor, you should be used to multiple takes."

There was a somewhat tense moment when someone knocked on the door and Matt retreated to the bathroom to let Neal deal with the visitor. He emerged when he heard Neal bid the visitor goodbye and close the door.

"It was Peter," Neal said. "Checking up on me."

"Are you going in tomorrow or am I?" Matt asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Neal said. "I guess we'll have to see who wakes up with the anklet."

Matt regarded him a moment then asked, "Why didn't you take the opportunity to run while you were there?" he asked. "Leave me stuck here, in your life?"

Neal said nothing for a moment as he poured himself a glass of wine. "I guess... I guess I realized I'd miss it if I did. Working with Peter, conspiring with Moz, talking to June..." He shrugged. "Besides, this is *my* life, not yours. I've stolen a lot of things but never that. Never someone else's life."

Simultaneously they yawned and exchanged an identical grin. "Okay, I guess the next question is who sleeps where," Matt said.

"Go ahead and take the bed," Neal said. "I can stand one night on the couch. We'll figure out what to do tomorrow night if it comes to that."

They took turns getting ready and Matt fell into the bed, laying there as he listened to Neal getting comfortable on the couch and hoped against hope a little that he'd wake up in his own bed the next morning. Finally, he drifted to sleep.

 

His eyes opened immediately when the alarm went off and he was relieved to see his own bedroom. He also realized he was no longer wearing the anklet. He rolled to his back, wondering if Neal was disappointed to have it back. He reached for his phone when it rang, smiling when he saw the ID.

"Hey Tim," he said. "I'm up. Yeah, I'll be ready. See you in a bit."

He lay there for a few more minutes before getting up to dress, ready for another day on set. And *really* hoping he never traded places with Bryce...

**Author's Note:**

> Even though Mozzie says Neal has been wearing the anklet for three years but the story takes place mid-season four, I think it's reasonable to assume that shooting time can be compressed down so the times are congruous.


End file.
